


my heartbeat sound getting louder

by theafterimages



Series: you and me [1]
Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Pining, Writing on Skin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 05:41:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7832515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theafterimages/pseuds/theafterimages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bambam decides he'd rather doodle than study for the SATs, and uses Yugyeom as his canvas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	my heartbeat sound getting louder

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to J for betaing!
> 
> This is set several years before _more than anyone in this world_. I think I might write a whole set of stories set in this AU, but I don't have any firm plans for future installments yet.

Bambam sighs. Again. “How much longer do we have to study?”

“Don’t you want to get good SAT scores?” Yugyeom reminds him automatically, not looking up from his geometry notes. “And make sure Jinyoung doesn’t scold us for not doing well enough on our next practice test again?”

“You always want to impress Jinyoung,” Bambam says, voice lilting. “You really like him.”

Yugyeom shakes his head. “No, I just don’t…” 

This isn’t the first time Bambam has teased him about having a crush on their tutor, though Yugyeom still doesn’t know why he thinks it's true. Well, okay, Yugyeom kind of looks at Jinyoung’s ass a lot, but he can’t help it. It’s _right there_. But he doesn’t have enough feelings left over to have a crush on Jinyoung, not when… well. 

If Bambam only knew, he can’t help but think wryly. 

“It’s okay. He’s really hot. Nobody can blame you.” Bambam leans in close, patting Yugyeom’s back. He smells really good, like always. 

Yugyeom has a sudden mental image of himself turning and wrapping his arms around Bambam, pressing his face against his neck where the scent of his cologne is always the strongest; he stares fixedly at his notes, shoving the idea aside. 

Studying, he tells himself. Test scores. He’s going to do well on the SATs, and get into a good college, and figure out a way to stop his steadily deepening feelings for Bambam instead of blurting them out and ruining their friendship. Goals are important, his father always tells him. Yugyeom is clinging to his with both hands. They’re not too much to ask for, right?

“We should study,” he mumbles.

Bambam sighs, his hand slipping away, and turns back to his own notes. 

For a few minutes he’s actually quiet. Yugyeom thinks that he’s finally focused, and even manages to actually absorb a few things in his own notebook pages rather than just staring blankly at them, until Bambam takes Yugyeom’s arm and turns it so that the inside of his forearm faces upward.

Yugyeom jumps at the touch, looking down wildly in time to see Bambam start to doodle on his skin. “What are you doing?” he blurts out.

Bambam tsks. “Keep _still_. Let me draw on you.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Jackson,” Yugyeom tells him, but he doesn’t move his arm. Bambam smiles at him, recognizing the unspoken submission, and resumes doodling.

Yugyeom knows he needs to study _something_ so that Jinyoung won’t be disappointed when they meet with him tomorrow. The problem is he can’t help sneaking glances as Bambam continues to draw on his forearm, taking in Bambam’s focused gaze. His skin is tingling from the pressure of Bambam’s fingers and pen, and he can’t help imagining what it would feel like if it were Bambam’s lips instead…

“What’s that, a line?” he asks quickly, feeling his thoughts start to slip out of control again. That’s been happening a lot around Bambam lately. “A string?”

“You’ll see, just let me finish,” Bambam scolds him. Yugyeom laughs but stops asking, just watches as it becomes a snake, and as Bambam draws an ant next to it.

“Beautiful,” Yugyeom says dryly. “I’ll never wash them off.”

Bambam pats his arm, uttering a distracted laugh. “Do you have a red pen, too?”

“Yeah, somewhere. Why?”

“You’ll see.”

Yugyeom digs it out, then lets Bambam arranges him so that his elbow is on the table and his forearm extends out, his pinky facing Bambam. This sketch is much quicker—a streak of red halfway down his forearm, then up along his wrist and circling around his pinky. Bambam makes the line thicker, and then adds a looped bow at the pinky.

“Now do the same for me,” Bambam says, holding out his pen.

Yugyeom blinks, his heart suddenly pounding. “Like the red string of fate?”

“Exactly,” Bambam says with a smile, and then waves the pen at Yugyeom when he doesn’t take it right away. “Come on, do it already. I need to study.”

“ _Now_ you care."

“I’ve taken too long already!”

“I’ve been saying that,” Yugyeom says, the ribbing automatic. Which is good, since the actual thinking part of his brain is just running in disbelieving circles.

Bambam waits as Yugyeom draws a parallel line on his arm. He’s not saying anything for once, and Yugyeom doesn’t know what to do; silences between them are usually comfortable, but this one is thick with something he doesn’t recognize. 

“My mom never let us draw on ourselves when we were kids,” he babbles, just for the sake of saying _something_. “She thought the ink would poison us.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take the blame,” Bambam says, patting Yugyeom’s bent head with his free hand. The gesture would have been teasing and normal, except this time he leaves it there, gently stroking Yugyeom’s hair as Yugyeom finishes drawing. Yugyeom swallows and utters a silent, frantic prayer that his face isn’t as red as it feels. 

“There,” he says quietly as he draws a bow, not as neatly as Bambam’s. His fingertips skim Bambam’s wrist as he pulls away, and he has a sudden, vivid mental image of himself pressing a kiss to Bambam’s pulse point. He swallows and pulls away. “We match.”

“Now we’ll have to go to the same college,” Bambam says. He’s smiling, Yugyeom discovers when he dares to glance at him, though not quite the way Yugyeom is used to seeing from him.

Yugyeom looks down at their arms again, close but not touching. The red string of fate. Bambam couldn’t mean anything by it; it’s just a joke… right? “Yeah, we’d better,” he says with a quick laugh.

“Promise?”

Yugyeom looks up at him again. Something about the uncertainty in Bambam’s voice has the afternoon clicking into place. Maybe that’s what’s been going on with Bambam this whole time—he’s just been thinking about how they could end up at different schools. 

That’s probably it, Yugyeom decides, telling his still racing heart to calm down. They’re best friends. Of course that’s all Bambam meant by the drawing. People can be meant to be friends, too. And Yugyeom and Bambam were. He’s always been sure of that. 

He slides his arm over until he closes the few centimeters between them, then curls his pinky around Bambam’s. “Promise,” he says, smiling at Bambam, and Bambam smiles back.

And that’s all he needs, Yugyeom tells himself firmly.  



End file.
